Peintures vivantes - Joseph Descamps

Les accords

"I think I fucked up," I mutter, as I sit down next to Henri on the stairs in the lobby. He turns to look at me and gives me a lopsided smile. "Meaning?" he asks me with a hint of curiosity and fright. I like Pichon, perhaps because he is the only boy, along with Alain, who does not treat us girls badly.

I shrug. "I made a deal with Descamps," I reply, looking as far as I can beyond the gates of the high school. Henri frowns, expressing strong confusion. "I never expected you to be busy making deals with the devil." He replies, giving a slight smile. "She'll be the class leader," I admit, looking at my nails.

Yes, I know, I'm stupid. Because I told him. Why?

"Oh... Did Descamps find the date of the battle?" he asks me. I go back to look at his face. Henri, how is it possible that you didn't understand! From my expression, Henri opens his mouth and widens his eyes. "Ahhh, it was you who told him the date." He realizes it late. Welcome Pichon!

"I'm going to sound stupid, but I had to do it. He was holding Applebaun's glasses hostage. And I hate it when he does that."

"So what?"

"The guy with no brains...or rather, the guy who pretends to be bossy when really he's just full of ego. Ego he clearly uses to hide the truth: fear." I reply in a fierce tone, between my teeth.

"Wow." Henri tightens into his red vest and inhales. I turn to look straight ahead. "Why do you let him treat you badly Pichon. You could give him 10-0 on all fronts. You are intelligent, kind, sympathetic, caring. Humble." I ask him. I could ask the same question of myself. Descamps is strange: he holds everyone in check, but everyone accepts it.

Henri lowers his gaze. "Well, honestly I'm afraid of him, especially now that he's without an eye. " he says with a laugh.

"I didn't think you were so bad Henri." I laugh in turn. But Henri turns serious again, beginning to fiddle with his white tie. "In truth, I'm afraid of him."

"Why Henri, what do you have to be afraid of?" I press him.

"Well, he is older than me and also much more overbearing. He always goes around in groups, constantly feeling invincible. I am ... me. Short, chubby, and with an unpretty last name. People laugh at me, and maybe they're right."

I turn to look at him, unknowingly peeling a skin from my ring finger. "Well, he only has one eye now, use it to your advantage," I reply, giving him a gentle nudge. He hints a slight smile. "I wish I had your strength, Romy," he confesses.

But what strength, Henri. I'm actually anything but strong, I reflect.

----------------------------------------------------

"Well gentlemen. It's time to see who among you will have the honor of being class leader. So who was able to find the date of the Battle of Marathon?" asks Giroud, leaning against the desk. The silence that falls in the classroom is awkward, to say the least. Descamps, you're always talking out of your ass, and now you remain silent even though you have the answer in hand?

The professor's eyes dart in the direction of the last few desks, and I notice a spark of astonishment in her gaze. "Yes, Mr. Descamps." I turn sharply as the pirate stands up under the gaze of the entire class.

"490 B.C. Professor." He replies with satisfaction. Good, for a moment I feared you had forgotten the date. At least an embarrassment was avoided. Giroud looks very astonished. "Congratulations, Mr. Descamps, I am surprised." I sense Felbec's anger through the air.